OK! Here we go! Enjoy and there is one more chapter after this and a epilog. Wow. Almost done. It's been quite a ride!

Brackett left the fire department chiefs to their jobs and headed down to the ER. There he found the usual organized panic. Dixie met him with several clipboards. "These need signed for supplies first off." She told him and he quickly scribbled his signature. She handed the boards to a waiting nurse who hurried off. "Who's on?" Brackett barked.

"You, Morton and Rodriquez. Joe's been called and Mike is coming in early." She checked her schedule again. "We also have three new interns who were due to start this week on their rotations who are coming in." She handed him the list and he made several checks. "Have these sent to the on-scene triage. We'll rotate out from there as we can."

She nodded and slid another stack of clipboards near him. "Fire Department is setting up our triage at Dominguez Park. That's about two miles from the middle of the scene."

He nodded, "Any further information?" She nodded and pointed to a sheet. He scanned it briefly, his mouth twitching. "Nearly a mile long huh. Bound to be casualties from both the train and the area." He sighed, "Ok. Looks like you've got everything readied." He paused to grin at her, "As usual."

Dixie gave him a smug face then a noise from the hallway caught her attention. Her eyes scanned the group and settled on one figure as the hairs rose on the back of her neck and she stifled a shudder. Silently she said a quick prayer for these firefighters—and the brethren she knew would soon be in the thick of everything. Especially two in particular.

As the newly certified paramedics from the testing area filed out toward the exits, Brackett looked up from where he was busy ordering supplies and making out the listing for his own triage team. He couldn't help but notice that as the blue clad figures marched through the ER Dixie stopped to watch them pass. Brackett also noticed the frown marring her face and came up to her smiling. "Relax Dix. I know you worry about your 'boys in blue' but they have to get their feet wet sometime." He watched a moment as the group silently passed. "Besides, they all passed their written and their skills tests; they're paramedics now."

Dix scowled at Brackett for several heartbeats. "I know that." She muttered. Then her gaze returned to the group and he noticed she watched one figure in particular. He walked slightly away from the others, the expression on his face one of boredom.

"Oh." Brackett murmured then sighed, "Dix, he deserves his chance again. He passed every test I and the fire department gave him.

"I know that too." She answered but her eyes never left the self-segregated figure. Brackett sighed and place a gentle hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. "Dix, practically all of LA county is responding to this. What do you suppose the odds are Kent'll even see him, let alone be working with him,"

Now Dixie turned and faced the doctor, her delicate brows arched and her mouth turned into a smirk "Kel." She admonished softly. "This IS John Gage we're talking about." With that announcement she left to continue her duties for disaster preparation. In her wake she left Brackett with a stunned look on his face as a chill raced down his spine. He knew that whenever John Gage was added into any equation, odds went straight off the table. With a sigh he shook himself and muttered to whatever deity might be listening. "Please. For once. Let her be wrong?"

The day had been rough for Squad 51 so far but the break and burgers at the fast food joint had helped restore both their energy and their spirits. They had almost made it back to the station when they were called out again.

"Squad 51. Woman trapped. 2539 Apt D Applegate Lane. 2-5-3-9-Apt D as in Delta Applegate Lane. Cross street Milhouser. Time out 16:42."

Johnny sighed as he wrote down the address and acknowledged the call. "That's not too far from us right now. Turn left at this next cross street."

Roy nodded as he followed Johnny's directions. They soon pulled up to a fairly new apartment complex. "Wow." Johnny whispered as he scanned the sprawling architecture in front of them. It was built to resemble a large two story Spanish hacienda complete with large courtyard graced by fountains and gardens.

Roy glanced around him. "Yeah." He agreed as he pulled their gear. Johnny grabbed the biophone and the trauma box while still looking around. The place appeared deserted; no panicked person waved them down. The doorways were all recessed and surrounded by shrubbery. "There's no numbers showing or anything." He muttered, "How do we find the right one?"

"Start knocking on doors I guess." Roy answered as he grabbed up the drug box and IV kit and headed toward the nearest door. Johnny fell into his wake. Roy knocked on the door and it was immediately answered by a middle age woman dressed in a wraparound dress, high heels and made up as if for a night on the town. She grinned at them a little hungrily as her eyes thoroughly scanned the man in front of her. "Well…. Heeelllooo. You selling something, fireman?"

Roy blinked at her as she looked him up and down then she caught sight of Johnny shifting nervously behind him. Her grin changed into an outright leer as she licked her red painted lips. "On second thought whatever he's selling, I'll willingly buy—all of it."

Johnny blushed and stepped a little more behind Roy, his gaze dropping uneasily to his feet. Roy put on a smile and cleared his throat slightly and those glinting eyes came back to him. "Um Ma'am. We're looking for apartment D. We . . we got a call someone needs help there."

"Really." She purred as she continued to visually … assess them. Johnny shifted again feeling like he was being visually stripped. He tried to keep a professional face but could feel his ears burning. "So, to get you boys to come to my place all I have to do is call? Hmmm, I could use a little . . . help . . . now and then." She leaned against the doorway and the side of the dress fell open, revealing a slender well shaped leg.

Roy swallowed hard. "ummm, listen Ma'am. We . . we just need to find Apartment D." He lifted the drug box still in his hand. "Someone may be hurt."

She sighed dramatically, "Oh, alright. I'm apartment F as in . . ." she took a deep breath, lifting her chest muscles—and thus her breasts— as her eyes scanned down Roy's body, "Oh sooo fine." She continued, "The apartment here .. ." she pointed to her left, as her eyes slid around Johnny's frame, "is G as in gorgeous." She drew the word out seductively. Now it was Johnny's turn to swallow hard. She caught his gaze and smiled at him, her eyebrows raising slightly. Johnny felt his cheeks burning and his gaze shifted nervously away. She chuckled deeply and turned her lingering gaze on Roy.

"oh." Roy struggled to find his voice, "So D should be over this way." He waved in the proper direction.

She smiled, "Very good! So, fireman, when you're done over there, wanna come back here? I've been having a little trouble with this heat . . . and I could use some 'help' . . ." Her eyes fastened on Johnny who started to back up, then turned and head over toward the right apartment. Roy followed him, his smile uneasy. "Ummm, no, we're . . we're on duty. Ummm. Thank you for your he. . . assistance."

"Any time, fireman. A-n-y-time." She cooed as she watched Johnny walk away. Johnny kept glancing self consciously back over his shoulder, wanting to move the boxes he carried so that they blocked her view of his backside but he suppressed the urge and just sped up his walk.

Soon they were at the entrance two apartments over. Johnny looked around as Roy stepped up to the door. "It looks exactly like the other ones."

"Yeah." Roy agreed, "Whadya wanna bet they all are that way."

Johnny shook his head, "No deal." He continued looking around as Roy knocked loudly and called out, "Fire Department." They waited briefly but the door didn't move and there was no answer. He knocked and called again checking the door then glanced at Johnny. "locked."

"I'll start checking windows." Johnny called as he headed off. The first window was shut and had a heavy curtain over it, not allowing anything to be seen. As he headed further back he heard noises and called out, "Hello! Fire Department!"

"Here, Help!" He heard a soft female voice call. He rushed forward and found a window propped open with a large fan in it. He looked in but couldn't see anyone inside. "Uhh, I'm John Gage from the fire department. Ma'am, your door is locked and . .."

"I know. I have a toddler." The voice cut him off then continued, "I can't get to the door to unlock it."

Johnny frowned as he leaned back and called. "Roy? She's around here." He turned back, examining the fan. "Ma'am, I can move this fan and get in .. . ."

"Wait! No!" the voice obviously panicked. "Don't move the fan!"

He paused, concern drawing a frown on his face. "Are you hurt? Can you tell me what's going on?" He asked, keeping his voice soft and soothing.

"I'm . . .I don't think I'm hurt." The voice said slowly, "But I'm definitely trapped here."

Johnny looked over as Roy trotted up to hear. "Ma'am, can you tell us how you're trapped?" Suddenly Johnny stopped, his head raised as he sniffed the air. "Roy?"

Roy nodded as he, too, caught the acrid stench on burnt plastic.

There was a sigh, then, "I was washing my hair. I had put Linda in her playpen and locked the door. Then I smelled this horrid smell and saw smoke. I came out of the bathroom and there was this awful black smoke pouring out of my stove. I think she must have put some of her toys or something in there. I turned it off, then put this fan in the window, backwards, so it would draw the smoke out." Now she sighed heavily.

Johnny had been examining the vibrating fan which was making a strange whining sound even as she continued, "I'd just leaned down and plugged it in. It was already turned on and set on high and well, my hair . . ."

Johnny nodded as he pointed to the blades. Roy could see blonde hair wrapped tightly around the gears. "Ok." Johnny said as he pushed up on the window sash; it moved reluctantly. "We see the problem. I'll be as careful as I can. What's your name?"

"Mrs. Günter," came the reply.

"Ok, Mrs. Günter. My name is Johnny Gage and my partner here is Roy DeSoto. Are you ready?"

Another sigh, then, "I guess. It's . . . it's in there pretty tight. I tried to get it out but . .."

Johnny couldn't help but smile. "We're gonna raise this window up a little more and then we'll ease the fan out back into the house. Move as far from the window as you can." He instructed her.

"I'll try but I can tell you, it's got me on a short leash."

Roy took over pushing up the sash as Johnny carefully maneuvered the fan. Johnny could feel the resistance as he shifted the heavy weight but he finally got it free of the window. Roy reached out with one hand and swept the heavy curtain back, clearing their view of both the room and their victim. Johnny looked in through the window and smiled down at the kneeling pretty young woman with hazel eyes and long blonde hair held firmly in the fan's blades. He smiled his most comforting smile into her clearly scared face. "Well! Hello there, Mrs. Günter!"

She gave him a uncertain smile back.

"Ok, now Mrs. Günter, I'm gonna lower the fan to the floor. Move your body as you can so it doesn't pull. " At her slight nod, he carefully lowered the heavy fan to the floor. She moved her body with it until she was almost lying on the floor in front of it. Johnny straightened and flexed his arms and back, feeling the strain from the controlled slow descent. He glanced at Roy even as he swung one long leg up over the high window sill. As soon as he was standing inside he reached back through the window and took the equipment Roy handed him then, after making sure his partner didn't need his help getting through the window he bent over their patient.

"Hi there!" He smiled brightly. She turned her head as much as she could to look into his face, hazel eyes watering slightly even as her pale cheeks blushed. Roy clambered through the window, took one glance to assure Johnny didn't need his help and trotted off to the kitchen. He returned with a glove over his hand and holding a iron skillet with the remains of what looked to have once been a fair sized stuffed animal. He grinned at his partner and the woman. "I think I found the cause of the smoke."

Mrs. Günter took one look, her nose wrinkling at the lingering smell then she sighed, "Well, that was her favorite snuggly, a lambskin lamb."

Roy nodded, "I'll get it out of here." He tried the front door, saw it was still locked with a deadbolt and no sign of keys. Johnny was now hovering over the woman so he just reached through the window and placed the skillet on the ground.

"I'm so embarrassed." She was telling him, one hand reaching up to her trapped locks, "I tried to get free but I just couldn't." Johnny looked over at the awkward way she was reclined and nodded, "I can see that. Now, I need to take a pulse and check you out here. Are you hurt anywhere else?" He knelt beside her and made to moved the knitted blanket bundles in her lap aside.

"Careful!" she cried softly and he froze, afraid of hurting her. But she smiled softly and brought out one arm from the mass. "Sorry. I just got her to sleep. It took me quite a while to even convince her to come sit in my lap."

Johnny now noticed curly blonde hair sticking out of the blanket and a quick glance around revealed the handset of a phone buzzing loudly stretched the length of its cord off its set as well as several toys and books. "Oh. Ok." He took the offered arm and took a pulse. It fell well within the normal range as did her respirations and BP. He told his partner this then leaned closer. "I'm just gonna see how attached you are to this fan here."

She chuckled faintly at his phrasing. "I'm not hurt." She told him, answering his earlier questions. "I mean, my hair is being pulled and my scalp's a little sore but nothing more than Linda has done before." She stroked the blanketed form and both paramedics heard a child's sigh.

Meanwhile, Roy unplugged the fan and reset the handset back on its receiver. Then he sat on his own haunches, waiting to offer any further help as Johnny took the lead.

Johnny turned to his partner, "Her scalp's red but not bleeding. But the hair is in there really tight. Uhhhh, open the fan?"

Roy nodded, and headed back out toward the truck to get the small tool kit they carried. Johnny knelt back where the woman could see him without straining. "Mrs. Günter, we're going to have to take apart the fan. My partner, Roy, went to get our tool kit."

She frowned and sighed, "I guess if you have to, you have to. I don't really have a choice here, do I."

He smiled at her but didn't answer as he examined the way the fan was built. When he heard Roy place the tool box down he said, "hex head screwdriver…" Without looking behind him, Johnny extended his hand and felt the requested tool slapped, surgical tool-like into his palm. He frowned over his shoulder into twinkling blue eyes as Roy gave a faint shrug. Mrs. Günter giggled faintly as she understood the action. "I guess, in a way, you are operating."

Johnny's mouth twitched as he turned his attention back to the bolts holding on the fan's front. Soon he had all four loose and dropped the screwdriver at his feet. "Ok. That does it. Now I'm gonna lift this off and uhhhh, Roy?"

Roy stepped forward and helped brace the woman's hair as Johnny gently removed the grill and slid his hand into the fan. He tugged and pulled at the hair wrapped up inside. His face showed his concern that what he tried wasn't working well. Mrs. Günter stared up at him and now she sighed heavily, her eyes filling again with tears. Johnny glanced down and immediately stopped, think he was hurting her. "I'm very sorry." He apologized.

She gave a tiny nod. "You're . . . you're going to have to cut it, aren't you."

Johnny's head rose up as he exchanged glances with his partner. "We might not have to yet ma'am." He soothed.

Tears began to flow down her cheeks as she looked up at them. "Oh, I hope not. My . . . my husband . .. he wouldn't understand . .." Johnny caught his lip between his teeth as he frowned. But she was continuing. "I can't . .. I can't cut my hair. It's against my religion."

Now Roy paused, "Uhhh, against your religion?"

She gave another tiny nod. "Yes. See I'm Mennonite. Our sect doesn't believe in cutting a woman's hair or letting other men see your hair loose. A woman's hair is part of her glory and only for her husband." More tears fell. "I really shouldn't have even let you into my house but . . ." She shrugged weakly.

"You didn't have a choice."

"You did the right thing." Both paramedics assured her simultaneously. She gave them a teary smile. "Ohhh, I hope James sees it that way."

Johnny smiled reassuringly at her, "I'm sure he will." Then the two became very busy trying to release the woman's hair from the fan. Roy held the grill while Johnny's deft slender fingers worked at untangling the now greasy strands. After nearly 30 minutes of work, he only managed to loosen about a third of the hair. No matter what he tried, the rest was too tightly wound and tangled. Tired and frustrated, he looked up at Roy and shook his head.

Mrs. Günter, who had been closely watching them, saw the silent communication and gave a quiet sob. Johnny looked down at her and she had to smile at the sad look in his brown eyes. "I'm really very sorry, Mrs. Günter. I've tried the best I can."

She smiled at him, "I know you have." She sighed and pointed to a table nearby. "Well. If it must be . . . There is a pair of very sharp shears in that drawer there. Do what you have to."

Johnny nodded and retrieved the scissors. Since his hands were smeared in grease, he handed them to his partner. Roy waited as Johnny ripped open a couple of abdominal pads and wiped his hands. When Johnny nodded and braced the grill, Roy took a deep breath, placed the scissors and froze as an unearthly wail sounded.

Johnny jumped half his height as the noise sounded directly below him. He looked down, brown eyes wide even as Mrs. Günter scrambled with the bundled blanket. "Shhh, shhh, mine kinder." She soothed as she quickly uncovered a scrunched up and red face. "She always wakes up like this." She explained to the two firemen. She tried pulling the child up to her shoulder but her awkward position prevented that maneuver.

Little Linda rubbed her eyes and looked around, her wail faltering as she took in the two strange men in her home and the weird thing that appeared—in her young mind—to be trying to swallow her mommy. Her blue eyes widened even further as she pulled backward out of her mother's arms, her mouth dropping open in a high pitched shriek.

Her mother reached for her, "Adalinda! Come to Müttee! Come here bengelchen; it's alright. Oh!" She tried to grab her daughter and the grill slipped from Johnny's still slightly slick hands, falling to the floor with a clatter and pulling her painfully down with it. The action scared the little girl more and she turned and ran as fast as her little legs could go.

"Roy . .." Johnny started, his attention going from the woman now weeping on the floor to where the child had run. "Go." Roy told him even as he knelt by their patient. Johnny did, zipping through the house in a fast search, well aware of how quickly small children can get into trouble. As he entered the large dining room he stopped, dropped to his knees and froze.

There, wedged between a dry sink and a buffet, just as tightly as she could, wept the small child. Johnny smiled gently at the little girl. "Hey there honey." He called, keeping his voice soft and gentle. "what's got you so teary eyed?"

The child hiccupped her sobs and pulled further back from him. He sat back on his haunches. "Oh, Engelchen. Don't be scared of me. My name's Johnny and your mommy called me here to help her."

At that the little girl looked him straight in the eyes and whimpered, "Müttee."

Johnny nodded, "Yes. Müttee. Müttee is waiting for you. Shall I take you to her?" He held his hand out carefully, his dark eyes never leaving hers. She continued to look at him, her lips trembling but her posture not as rigid. Johnny moved carefully forward, his hand still stretched out but his eyes never left hers and hers never left his. She didn't move from him as he reached her, nor did she move as he cautiously slid his hand over hers. Their eyes never broke contact as he gently pulled.

Suddenly she leapt toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face into his throat. He ducked his head, resting his cheek against her hair, murmuring words of comfort as he held her against him with one arm and rubbed her back soothingly with his other hand. He walked carefully back into the room where his partner and her mother were, his voice soft and low in her ear. She turned her head and looked toward her mother, a whimper coming from deep within her as she clung tighter to her support's neck.

Roy took one look and said, "You just keep her, Junior. I've got things here." Johnny just nodded and carefully sat down in a near corner. Roy could hear his partner's murmurs and realized he was singing. He paused to listen to the words then looked down at his patient. She, too, was looking at Johnny, her face showing surprise as she listened. Johnny had his eyes nearly closed as he rocked gently. Adalinda had turned her head so she could look into his face, her hand still wrapped tightly into his hair at his nape but she was beginning to sing-song with him.

"Schtill, schtill, schtill, Weil's Kindlein schlafen will. Die Englein tun schön jubilieren, Bei dem Kripplein musizieren. Schtill, schtill, schtill, Weil's Kindlein schlafen will.

Schlaf, schlaf, schlaf, Mein liabes Kindlein, schlaf! Die Engel tuan scho musizieren Bei dem Kindlein jubilieren. Schlaf, schlaf, schlaf, Mein liabes Kindlein, schlaf!"

Mrs. Günter's voice softly added to the second verse. When they were done, she looked with wide eyes at the dark haired paramedic. "Wei hast du (How did you) . . . Du bist nicht Deutsch! (You're not German!)" She said in German. Johnny shook his head, "Nine, mine Urgroßmütter. (no, my Great Grandmother."

She looked him carefully over, "Ahhh." Then in English, "Adalinda will be two in a few months. I would sing that to her both while I carried her and once she was born." She smiled softly, "You couldn't've picked a better song to calm her down." She startled suddenly as the weight on her head eased, her eyes blinking widely "Ooohhh!"

"You're free." Roy told her as he helped her sit upright. Her hair fell about her neck and shoulders, part of it covered in grease. She pulled the loose ends around, trying to look at them. "Oh my."

Sudden pounding on the door caught all of their attention. In Johnny's arms, Linda whimpered slightly and clung tighter to him. A loud anxious voice called, "Liesel! Liesel! Ist alles ordnung (Are you alright)?"

Mrs. Günter looked toward the door. "Oh. That's my neighbor, Pauline." She hurried across the room, grabbed up a set of keys from a hook high up near the lintel and unlocked the door. Instantly a dark haired woman burst in. "Liesel! Are you alright? You didn't answer me! There's a fire truck out front and I saw smoke coming out of your kitchen window and . . ." Her eyes widened and she grabbed for the other woman's head. "Liesel! What happened to your hair!"

Liesel took her friend's hand and in rapid fire German explained everything. She motioned toward where Roy was closing the various boxes they had brought and Johnny still sat against the wall. "These two nice gentlemen freed me but at the cost of my hair."

Pauline smiled at the two, "Thank you for your help, gentlemen." She looked critically at her friend. "Not a bad job but it'll need evening out. I can do that in a jiffy and then you'll have to wash it again to get that grease out of it. I'll watch Linda while you do." She looked around, as if just noticing the little girl was nowhere to be seen. She turned wide blue eyes back to her friend. "Liesel, where's Linda?"

Liesel smiled gently at Johnny as she nodded in his direction. "She's perfectly fine—right there."

Pauline followed her gaze and now saw the little girl cuddled in the young paramedic's arms, her rapt gaze locked on his face. "Oh my." Pauline looked from the sight back to her friend. "She went willingly to him?"

At Liesel's nod she turned toward the handsome paramedic. "You must have quite a way with children. Linda rarely allows any man other than her father or grandfather to touch her. My own husband has known her since she was born and I can count on one hand the times she's let him hold her."

Roy looked over toward his blushing friend and grinned, "It's the Gage charm, ma'am. Few females below 16 can resist it." Johnny blushed harder as Roy added, "Or over 50. It's the ones in the middle who are immune."

The two women laughed and Mrs. Günter stepped over to Johnny. "Come Engelchen. Say good bye now." Linda went willingly to her mother but not before she placed a sloppy kiss on Johnny's blushing cheek.

Soon Johnny and Roy were on their way back to the station. Roy glanced at his partner several times, noticing the brow wrinkled in thought and the dark unfocused gaze staring out the window. He shook his head, "You never cease to surprise me, junior."

His quiet comment jarred Johnny out of his thoughts and he blinked at him, "Huh?"

Roy chuckled, "You. Just when I think I have you all figured out, you go and show me something totally new."

Now Johnny frowned, "What are you talking about, Roy?"

Roy glanced at his partner then turned his eyes back to the road, "Back there. How you quieted that little girl by singing to her." He shook his head, "What was that? A Indian lullaby or something?"

He spared a glance and was surprised to see a look of pain pass over Johnny's face. "Yeah, It was . . . a lullaby." Johnny acknowledged. Now it was Roy's turn to frown as he recalled the mother had joined Johnny in singing . . . and the mother was . . . "It was German. You were singing in German." He made it a statement and Johnny gave a nod although his attention stayed out the window.

"How do you know German? " Something else occurred to him, "And what was that you told her?"

Johnny mumbled something and Roy leaned toward him. "How's that, partner?"

Johnny sighed heavily and his attention dropped to his hands. "She said I wasn't German. Then she wanted to know how I knew that song."

Roy waited but Johnny didn't add anything. So he encouraged him with, "And you told her . .. ."

Johnny sighed again and shifted uncomfortably. "And I told her from my great Grandmother. She was German and both she and my mother . . . used to sing it to me." He finished very quietly.

Roy was quiet for a moment, then said softly, "I'm sorry, Johnny. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

Johnny looked into the sincere gaze of his friend and gave a gentle smile. "They're not all bad. I know my mother and my Grossy loved me very much. My Grossy made a . . . .a very bad time in my life bearable, and that song reminds me of her." He took a deep breath and shifted, "See, my mother was a Dako'acinca." at Roy's puzzled look he elaborated, "A half breed—half German and half Lahkota."

"Lahkota." Roy interrupted, "I thought you were Dahkota?"

"I am, both, actually." Johnny patiently said, then before Roy could further protest he explained, "Same nation—Sioux—but different tribes. My father was full blooded Dahkota."

"Oh." Was all Roy could think to say. He thought for a moment and when Johnny didn't continue he egged him on with, "Ok. So your mother was half German, half Lahkota." He deliberately avoid that hated degradation of half breed.

Johnny nodded. "Yes. That was the main reason some of my father's family couldn't accept her."

"Or you?" Roy softly asked, remembering the dreams and the feared aunt. Johnny nodded slowly as his head dropped and his gaze focused on his intertwined fingers. "And her father—my grandfather—was much worse in that aspect." Johnny sighed again. "It was a very bad time long ago."

"Not so long ago that it doesn't still hurt you." Roy's voice was gentle as he stared at his friend. Johnny looked up and met his gaze. Slowly a smile slightly stretched his lips. "Thanks Roy."

The light changed green and Roy gave a nod before turning his attention back out to the traffic. "Maybe someday you'll tell me about it." He added and held his breath. He heard Johnny sigh then relaxed when the other man softly replied, "Yeah. Maybe someday I will."

The rest of the ride was spent in silence and soon both men were heading into the kitchen. Johnny pulled out a chair and sat while Roy went to the coffee pot, swished it around then poured two cups. He placed one in front of his partner, then sat down, sipping his own cup. He pulled the paper over to him and began reading.

"Well, haven't seen much of you guys today." Marco's cheerful voice echoed as he walked into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and began pulling out items, placing them on the table. Johnny sipped his coffee as he watched the items accumulate in front of him. "Say Marco? What did you have for lunch?"

Marco pulled out some meat and set it on the counter. "Nothing special. We'd had a run that was kinda busy and by the time we got back, everyone was too hungry to really wait." He shrugged as he pulled out a skillet and set it on an activated eye. "So I just threw together some soup and sandwiches."

He wondered at the smirk Roy threw to his partner, "See?"

Johnny muttered something under his breath and rolled a tomato back and forth between his hands. Marco frowned at the dark haired man as he removed the tomato. "If I'd wanted it mushed, I woulda bought canned ones." He admonished the paramedic, then asked, "Why? Haven't you guys eaten yet?" He looked again at his foster brother. 'Well, he didn't hit the fridge as soon as he walked in . . . I don't hear his stomach . . .'

"Naw, we stopped for burgers between runs." Johnny admitted as he picked up an onion instead. Marco sighed and pulled out a cutting board. He slapped it down in front of the paramedic, stifling a snicker as the younger man jumped. Then he placed a knife and the onions on the board. "Since you're so intent on playing with dinner, you can help make it. Chomp those up fine, por favor."

Johnny grumbled some more under his breath and Roy snickered but both Marco and Roy saw Johnny began to peel onions. Soon the sounds of the knife hitting the board mixed with the sizzle of meat in the skillet. Johnny took the board, now piled full of onion pieces and held it near the skillet. At Marco's nod, he dropped them in. He washed off the board and the knife and walked back over to the table. He picked up a head of lettuce. "Marco?"

Marco turned slightly, saw the head in Johnny's hand and the questioning look on his face. He nodded. "Not too fine but yeah." Johnny nodded and made short work of the head.

Chet bounced into the kitchen, his nose in the air. "ummmmm, Marco that smells great!" Then his eyes caught on his favorite mark sitting at the table. A grin spread across his face and an evil twinkle gleamed in his eyes. He came closer, inhaling to begin needling his pigeon and paused, eyes widening as he realized what Johnny was doing. "What the hell you doing, Gage!" burst out of him, startling all three men. Johnny jumped and the knife he'd been poking various parts of his hand with, slipped and cut him.

Johnny scowled at his teammate. "Geez Chet. Look what you made me do!"

Roy grabbed the towel and placed it over Johnny's hand. The raised voices caught the other two men's attention and Cap and Mike came into the room.

"What's going on here?" Cap asked. Chet turned to him wide-eyed. "Cap, I think Roy better run Gage into Rampart. Something is seriously wrong with him!"

Johnny scowled more. "There's nothin' wrong with me except you!" he retorted. Cap looked to Roy who gave a shrug, "He's got a little cut, nothing really."

"Nothing!" Chet's voice practically squeaked. He pointed at Johnny. "Cap, I came in here and Gage was. . .was stabbing himself in the hand! With that knife!"

Cap raised his eyes to rebuke his lineman for the obviously exaggerated comment but caught the guilty look cross his junior paramedic's face. As one, the others all looked at Johnny, seeing the same thing. "Gage? Is there something you want to tell me?' He demanded in his best, 'I'm –being—patient—but –you—better –have—a –good—answer' tone.

Johnny tried a uneasy smile. "I wasn't stabbing myself." His tone told what he thought of that accusation.

Cap crossed his arms. "Ok. Then just what were you doing?"

Roy locked eyes with his partner. "I'd like to hear that too."

Johnny colored and ducked his head. "While I was cutting the lettuce, the knife sorta slipped and cut my finger." He pulled his hand from Roy's grasp and rolled it over, showing the slight cut on one finger. Roy inspected it; it wasn't deep or even still bleeding. "And?" Roy asked.

Johnny sighed, "And I didn't feel it. I saw the blood; that's when I first noticed. I knew I had numb areas on my hands; Doc warned me about that and I was just . . . well trying to see how numb it still . . ."

A groan/sigh echoed around the room and Johnny looked up. His dark eyes widened in surprise at the varied looks he saw on his shiftmates' faces. Everything from guilt to sorrow to worry to anxiety stared back at him. His gaze went from one face to another. "Hey guys! It's ahwright! I mean I'm fine! I have full use . . . of both my hands." He raised them and waggled his fingers, flexing them as if showing how recovered he was now.

Cap swallowed hard and concentrated on making sure his voice sounded calm. Things had been so 'normal' since Johnny had returned to work that he, apparently like the rest, had forgotten that Johnny was still healing. "This numbness … doesn't interfere with your work?"

Johnny emphatically shook his head. "No sir. Brackett wouldn't've cleared me if it did. He just told me to be more careful about where I put my hands and wearing my gloves and stuff because. . .well…"

"You could hurt your hands and not feel it." Mike finished the sentence. Johnny nodded.

Cap noisily cleared his throat. "Well. Then. Ahhhh, Marco? You need any more help with supper?"

Marco snapped his attention from looking at Johnny's still visibly scarred hands and blinked. "Ahhh, no, Cap. I've got it covered."

Cap clapped his hands together, "Well. Then. I suggest we . . ."

From over their heads a loud piercing whistle split the air. A light on the top of the tones sound system flashed. "Attention. Attention. All Stations. Code Orange. Repeat. Code Orange. This is not a drill. Further instructions will follow." A voice droned.

At the first sound, Johnny jumped violently. Now he, along with the others, stared at the box as if it had spouted blonde curls and big blue eyes. They probably wouldn't have been more surprised if it had done just that. Then five heads turned toward their captain. "Code Orange, Cap. That's . . .'

Cap nodded, "County wide disaster. You heard the tones. Let's move."

Marco slapped off the stove and pushed the pan off to the side. In mass they ran to the vehicles as an unbelievably long series of tones began to sound. "All LA County Fire Stations except Station 64, Station 86, Station 127, Station 98. Accident involving train. All stations report to Incident Command at Dominguez Park. Time out 19:12."

Cap scooped up the mic and added his, "Station 51 kmg365," to the list of responding stations. He glanced out the window and saw Johnny's arm already pointing as Roy nodded and headed the squad out. Mike pulled the engine out right behind them. It seemed like forever before the two vehicles from Station 51 joined their brethren in a tight long line at Incident Command and the men left their vehicles to gather around their captain. "Stay here; I'll find out what's going on." Five heads nodded as their captain looped off.

Johnny leaned against the squad, "Wow. Code Orange. And a train wreck." Worried brown eyes met equally concerned blue ones. "This could be really bad, Roy."

Roy tried not to roll his eyes at Johnny's understatement. Instead he merely said, "Yeah."

"Hey! You guys know what's goin' on yet?" A voice hailed them. They looked over to see Station 110 parked next to them. Kirk Mueller grinned back at them, Tom Wheeler just getting out of the squad. Johnny shook his head, "Naw. Just what dispatch said." Just then Cap trotted back over. "Marco, Chet load up. Mike, they want us on Wilmington as a tanker relay."

He turned to the four paramedics. "They want all of you over there in that blue tent. You'll get your assignments there." He clapped a hand on the back of each of his men. "Good luck." Then he swung up into the idling engine and Mike pulled slowly out, waving his own salute to his stationmates.

The four men grabbed their turnout coats and walked over to the indicated tent. Once inside, they saw other paramedics; some they knew, many they didn't. A bullhorn squelched and as one the talking ceased and all heads turned toward the front. "All right. Since most of you are now here, we're gonna go ahead and assign you." The chief on the horn looked toward his left where two men were setting up a board. "First off, we have an estimated 76 cars involved of which 15 are passenger cars. The railroad is trying to get us actual names but right now all we have are numbers." He looked at the sheet in his hand and read off, "Ummm, estimated 189 passengers checked in." He looked back up, "we are still waiting to hear how many railroad personal were on board and of course there's no count on how many civilians are involved as well." He pointed to a large map on the board. "The train extends from here on Del Amo Boulevard to Summerland Avenue."

Johnny's eyes widened as around them several others whistled, "That's gotta be nearly a mile!" Roy nodded as he, too, looked at the mapped wreckage. "Yeah. And half that area is residential."

Johnny listened to the rest of the briefing with only one ear. His mind was still boggled over the area of damage. His full attention was yanked back when Roy elbowed him. "Owwww!" he grumbled, glaring at his partner. Roy just smirked, "This way, Junior." He followed Roy and they joined several others before another chief with a clipboard. "DeSoto and Gage, 51's" Roy announced.

The chief looked over his paper and replied, "DeSoto and Gage. You're on search and rescue in the passenger cars. Grab up your gear, get a backpack each and head over to that truck." He pointed out past them toward where a department truck was being loaded. They nodded and headed out.

Marc opened his eyes as the bus's brakes hissed and the bus jerked to a stop. Yawning, he stood and stepped off the bus. He grabbed his gear and stood in the line before a captain holding a clipboard. As the captain briefed them on the situation, Kent boredly scanned the gathered paramedics, looking for familiar faces. He turned his attention back when the captain announced, "give me your names and I'll tell you where you're assigned."

He waited patiently in line until he faced the captain. "Marcus Kent" The captain scanned his list, made a check mark. "Kent, you're on search and rescue inside the passenger cars. Follow Becker there." He pointed toward a figure weaving through the crowds. Kent nodded and followed the indicated man onto a transport. Soon they were unloading in front of a tangled mess of train cars, personal vehicles and buildings.

Kent grabbed a handful of triage tags from the seat in front of the transport and stuffed them into his pocket. Then he trudged across the area and into the darkness of a passenger car sitting on its side. He paused to let his eyes adjust to the dimmer light and could see the tangled jumbled mess of torn loose seats, clothing, luggage and people. Other firefighters picked carefully through the mess, sorting out victims. A firefighter looked up and motioned him over. He bent to take a carotid on the exposed figure, letting his eyes scan over the twisted form. No pulse beat in the neck and the eyes were lifeless and dull. He shook his head and took a tag from his pocket. He marked the black area, fastened it to the victim's coat and turned away.

"Hey! I've got a live one." A voice called out. Kent moved toward him, recognizing as he did the one who called out was one of the newly certified paramedics. He crouched next to where the younger man was talking soothingly with a frail looking black woman. Kent looked her over, noting she clutched her left arm closely to her. He forced a smile. "Hello, I'm a paramedic from LA county. "

Pushed aside by the older paramedic, the younger man, still green and uncertain, sat back on his heels to watch and learn. The woman smiled at Kent. "Well hello."

Kent felt down her arm and she winced. "Where all do you hurt?" He asked.

She laughed, "Young man, at my age, everything hurts but I suppose you mean like my arm here." She replied.

He nodded. "Exactly. We'll get a splint on that and I'm sure it will feel better." He glanced at the medic behind him, muttered, "Splint it," then took her pulse as he asked, "Do you know your name?"

She frowned at him then grinned wickedly, "Of course I do! I'm not that old!" Kent nodded again. "OK. Someone will be by soon to help you get to the hospital." He took out another tag, marked it with the time and her vitals, then marking the green area, fastened it to her collar and stood.

The younger paramedic frowned as he watched Kent walk away. He smiled at the lady, "I'm just gonna get a splint for that arm and will be right back." She smiled at him, "That's alright sweetie, you run off and play with your sister. I'm tired and think I'll take a little nap now." She blinked sleepily. "Such a nice boy." She murmured. With one last worried frown in her direction, he hurried off.

Johnny rolled his shoulders and sighed as he stretched. He'd just completed another passenger car and was trudging across an open area to the next one, this one laying on its side. Once inside, he paused, letting his eyes adjust. Once they did, he could see other paramedics and firefighters moving around in the car. A stokes bearing a crying child moved past him and he watched it head out the door. A hand grabbing his arm, tugging at him suddenly startled him briefly. He turned and looked into a very young, very worried face with large grey eyes. A quick glance showed a new helmet with a newly applied paramedic patch. He smiled congenially, thinking, 'Ahhhh, newly certified. I heard they called them straight out from the testing.' He put on a reassuring smile and prepared to soothe what he figured was first disaster jitters.

Now that the youthful newbie had the other paramedic's attention, doubt on what he was doing filled the younger firefighter, but a quick glance around him strengthened his resolve. 'Well, the worst he can do is call me an idiot and I've been called that before.' He looked into the other paramedic's face and recognized him as one of the instructors from his classes. "Got a problem?" the man was saying. He nodded even as he drug the paramedic back over to the woman. "I think so. Another paramedic checked out this one victim but .. . uhhhh, he uhhh… he didn't check her over like you taught us."

At those words, Johnny straightened more, "How do you mean?" He asked even as he followed the young man.

"Well? He checked her pulse and breathing but didn't do a BP or run his hands on her or ask her anything but what hurt and her name."

"Did she answer him coherently?" Johnny could now see the tiny figure still half buried in debris.

"She said her arm hurt and he told me to splint it. He asked if she knew her name and she said yes. But he didn't ask what her name was. . ." The new paramedic's voice trailed off, sounding unsure. Then he took a deep breath and continued, "She told me to run off and play with my sister, that she wanted to take a nap." His frown deepened as he added, "I've never seen her before in my life and I don't even have a sister."

Concerned now himself, Johnny knelt next to the woman and she looked up at him. He pushed his helmet back further on his head and smiled, "Hi there!"

She smiled back at him. "Well, aren't you a handsome devil!"

Johnny blushed as he turned the tag and read it. "My name is Johnny, mind if I check you out here?"

She tittered and slapped gently at him, "Oh, you! I'm too old for you to check out."

He smiled as he took her pulse, it was a little fast but given the circumstances . . . He placed a hand on her abdomen and got her respirations. "So, I hear you know your name?"

Her smile widened as she answered, "Of course I do,"

He grinned at her, "So, tell me your name."

She tilted her head and announced, "My name is puddintain, ask me again and I'll tell you the same." She sing-songed, then she giggled. Johnny felt his heart sink in his chest as he gave a faint chuckle. "Really. Wow. That's . . that's an unusual name."

She giggled again. Johnny began feeling around her arms, finding an obvious deformity on the lower part of her left arm. " So, Miss Puddintain, other than your arm, does anything else hurt?"

She giggled again then winced, "I can't tell."

"Oh? Why not?"

"I can't tell because I can't feel anything else."

Johnny exchanged glances with the other paramedic and the grey eyed man muttered, "I'll get a backboard and c-collar," before disappearing. Johnny turned back to the woman, "Now, don't be scared but I'm gonna just feel around here and make sure you haven't got any more lumps and bruises." He began running his hands over her body, carefully moving debris from her lower limbs. As he reached for her head, she asked, "Oh! Are you one of those head readers? I've heard about people who can tell your future by reading the bumps on your head."

Johnny chuckled, "No ma'am. I'm not. I just need to make sure the doctor who sees you knows what might be wrong." She winced as he found a lump on the side of her head. "That hurt. I think you should stop now and go play with Lenny." She turned her head and closed her eyes as if dismissing him.

"I'm sorry, Miss Puddintain." Johnny told her and she peeked a look then began a slow grin. Johnny gave her his best lop-sided grin back and she smiled at him once more. "You have quite a lump there. Do you know what happened here?" He asked, not expecting a coherent answer.

"yes," She announced and glared at the stack of debris near him. "That ole travel cosmetic case of mine hit me." Johnny could see a heavy looking light tan case with metal reinforcement on the corners sitting near them. He pulled out his penlight. "I'm gonna shine this light in your eyes, OK? You just look straight ahead."

He did so, noting the pupils were sluggish and unequal even as she gasped in pain and pulled back from him, frowning.

"That hurt, young man." She snapped. He pulled back slightly. "I'm sorry. I had to do it. It helps me tell the doctors what is wrong with you."

She settled herself a little. "Well. Don't do it again." She flipped out her right hand. "Go play now, Granny's tired." She closed her eyes.

He tapped her cheek as he said, "oh no. Don't go to sleep yet. I have a very special doctor friend I want you to meet."

She blinked at him, "ooooo, a doctor? Do I look ok?"

He smiled, "You look just fine, Miss Puddintain."

She smiled and patted his cheek, "You have a devil's tongue too." He felt himself blushing over her actions.

On an impulse he pulled the cosmetic bag toward him and opened it. Inside, along with various cosmetic items and bottles of medications, were several pictures stuck in the mirror depicting his patient and several young children. A tag on the handle read, "Mrs. Amelia Harrison" and gave an address from Santa Barbara. He closed the case and pulled the triage tag loose, changing the listing to red. He scribbled his findings on the tag and as the other medic came back with two other firefighters bearing a stokes he took the splint from it as he said, "Let's get her boarded. She's claiming no feeling from the waist down and has a head injury." They quickly got the woman secured on the backboard and then into the stokes. He handed them the case, explaining, "This appears to be hers. It's got a name and address on the tag there and there are prescriptions inside." As they lifted her, she reached out and grabbed the young grey-eyed firefighter's hand. "Lenny, go with me: I'm scared."

The young paramedic turned toward Johnny, his grey eyes uncertain. Johnny smiled reassuringly, "It's important to keep the victim of head injuries calm." He reminded him. "Go in with her. Tell whatever doc you see what we've done and what you saw before."

He nodded, then smiled. "Thanks, and by the way, I'm Joel Dobson." Johnny smiled, "John Gage," and nearly rolled his eyes as the kid's eyes widened then flicked downward to take in his scarred hands. "Yeah, that Gage," Johnny paused then asked, "The other paramedic . . . did you catch his name?"

Dobson started to make a face but corrected it to carefully neutral. "Yeah. His turnouts said 'Kent'." Johnny merely nodded as the little group headed off but his blood suddenly felt like ice in his veins.

Kent moved down the line, bandaging minor cuts, splinting broken bones, and dispensing triage tags. He moved from yet another black tag to where two firefighters had just pulled a large cloth garment bag away from a pile where they'd heard noises. As the bag was lifted, they could see the face of a little boy of about 10. Dark eyes looked up at his rescuers as he said, "Fireman."

One, still kneeling, smiled, "That's right. And we're gonna get you out of here right now. Just hold still ok?"

The youngster nodded and the men worked quickly and carefully to free him, As soon as he was visible, Kent moved forward. "Where are you hurt?"

The boy looked at him and blinked, "¿Que?" Kent sighed heavily and muttered under his breath, "Great. Another one." He ran his hands down the boy's arms, none to gently, then over his ribs and legs, finding deformity on his lower right leg as well as several small lacerations over most of his body. Those he did nothing about but he splinted the leg then nodded to the two men with a stokes. "Green. Bruises and small cuts mostly. He does have a broken leg." He made out a tag, marked it green and tied it to the boy's shirt collar. "Get him out of here."

The child, who had been shaking with fear and shock but docile during the exam and splinting suddenly began to fight. He grabbed Kent's arm with both of his hands, holding tight and crying piteously.

Roy had just re-entered the passenger car after escorting a patient to the triage tent and spied his partner scowling near the back. He walked up to him, grinning as he tapped his shoulder, making the younger man jump.

"Man Roy, don't do that!" Johnny complained.

Roy's grin widened, "I wouldn't've startled you if you had been in this time zone."

Johnny's frown deepened. Now Roy sensed something serious was troubling the younger man and asked, "What's up Johnny?"

Johnny faced him, his mouth a straight line as he debated whether or not to tell his partner. The decision made, he answered, "It looks like Kent is up to his old tricks."

Now Roy's face went serious and he asked, "What makes you say that?"

Johnny explained what had happened to the lady with the head injury. "Roy? What if he's made other wrong calls? I can't do my job and check on everyone he's done as well?"

Roy sighed, "No. You can't. And no one expects you too. I can tell you that after this car they're pulling us all out for a break. Maybe they'll stick him in another area." He looked around and sighed, "You did report this right?"

Johnny looked away and Roy's shoulders sagged. "Johnny . . ." he started but Johnny interrupted him, "I did. I told Morton when I turned over my last victim. He said he'd pass it along to the chief giving the assignments."

Roy clapped a hand on his partner's back, knowing how hard that must have been for the younger man. Even though Kent's previous actions had nearly killed Johnny, Roy knew the thought of ending the other man's career hurt his friend. But behavior like Johnny had described could not be tolerated for any rescue man, let alone a trained paramedic. A commotion in front of them caught both their attentions and as one the two moved forward.

As they neared, they could see a young boy in a stokes, his hands wrapped as tightly as he could get them into the fabric of Kent's coat. The paramedic's teeth were clenched tightly in a look of disgust as he tried to force the child's fingers loose. Another fireman was helping him, albeit more gently. All the while the boy was sobbing, "Mi hermana! Mi Hermana! Su duela!"

"What's going on here?" Roy asked as he reached to soothe the child. Kent looked up at Roy and grinned broadly. "Hey Roy! Do you suppose you could get a amp of valium or diazepam for me? This kid's just got a broken leg but when we tried to get him out of here he just went hysterical."

Roy was running his hands around the boy's head, mindful of what Johnny had just told him. The boy looked up at him and pleaded something. Roy blinked as he recognized the language as Spanish. Briefly he wished Marco was there then in the next instant he recalled having heard Johnny and Marco talking in Spanish together. Although he didn't think his partner knew much Spanish, perhaps he knew enough to calm this child. With that in mind, he turned his head to call for Johnny but he was already there.

Johnny laid his hand on the boy's head and soothed, "Calmate, ¿Donde le duele?

The boy looked up at Johnny, his dark eyes alit to hear something familiar. He pointed to his leg and immediately began speaking. Johnny listened, interjecting a phrase or two once in a while as Kent rolled his eyes, "Oh for Christ sake, take it outside of you want to chitchat in grunts, Gage."

The two firefighters holding the stokes looked askew at Kent but Johnny ignored him. He turned from the boy and began digging near the area where they had pulled the child from. "He says just his leg hurts. He's worried about his little sister. She was sitting next to him. She stopped answering him some time ago." Johnny's voice held the urgency he felt.

Immediately Roy dropped to help him as did another firefighter. Soon Roy called out, "Here!" He pulled several coats out of the way, revealing a tiny pale face. Johnny took one look and motioned the stoke to be moved. The firefighters carrying it nodded, experience told them the girl didn't look good and the boy didn't need to see that. The boy relaxed his hold on Kent as they gently pushed him down into the stokes but continued to sob, "Mi hermana, Esté, Esté . . ." as he was carried away.

Johnny was doing fast ABCs and shook his head. "She's not breathing, no pulse." He locked his mouth over the girl's mouth and nose and blew gently. Roy continued to carefully excavate the little girl from the remainder of her coverings. He pulled a seat cushion off and froze, his face going blank then white.

Without a word he dropped his hand down on his partner's shoulder as Johnny made ready to start chest compressions on her now mostly uncovered body. His voice flat, Roy told him, "Johnny. Stop. It's no use."

Johnny pulled back to argue but his eyes fell on where Roy pointed. A piece of the railing to an overhead shelf had impaled the tiny child through the chest from side to side and blood soaked the clothing and floor under her. Johnny sat back on his heels and stared at her unmarked face, looking so innocent and way too young.

Roy pulled a tag from his pocket, marked the time and the black and reached past Johnny to attach it to her wrist. Then he covered her upper body with a blanket and motioned she be removed.

Johnny was still kneeling in the same spot, and now Roy noticed his partner's hands were shaking. He frowned as a wave of weariness flowed over his own body. He glanced at his watch, realizing that they had been working rescue for over 6 hours on top of their busy shift that day. He also realized it had now been over 10 hours since they'd last eaten. That all added together, and coupled with one more death on top of the others they'd already dealt with during this disaster, weighed heavily on his own soul. And he could well imagine just now hard it pressed down his sensitive partner.

"C'mon junior." He reached down and pulled Johnny's unresisting form to his feet. He kept a hand on his partner's elbow as he guided Johnny out of the car. Once outside in the artificial lights, he turned to get a closer look at his friend. "Johnny…" he started.

Johnny had his head down as he quietly answered. "I'm fine, Roy."

Roy snorted, "No. You're not fine. None of this is fine. We've just spent all evening crawling through hell on earth where little kids on vacation instead end up in pine boxes and families off visiting friends will instead be planning funerals and people sitting peaceably in their homes had a train run through their kitchens! It's not fine!" He waved an arm encompassing the surrounding controlled chaos. His voice had steadily risen as he spoke and several people around them stopped to stare but quickly looked away as Roy stared icily back at them. Roy took a deep calming breath and slowly let it out as the hand he still had on Johnny's elbow moved up to squeeze his upper arm. "Johnny," He began again.

Johnny's head slowly rose until brown eyes met blue. Roy could see in their red-rimmed darkness the same weariness he felt within himself. At the look of concern in his partner's face, Johnny managed a very faint grin. "I'll be ahwright. All part of the job right?" His voice trembled slightly and he carefully swallowed.

Roy sighed heavily but didn't break eye contact with his friend. "Yeah. Right."

Johnny lightly slapped his friend's arm as again the silent communication they were so adept at passed between them.

Roy nodded in understanding. He pointed toward the recovery tent. "Head that way. I'm gonna go report us in." He waited only long enough to see Johnny stagger off in the correct direction before he turned and headed the opposite way.

Tina Collins wiped her sweating brow with the back of her hand and let out a long breath. While she had always enjoyed her duties as a Red Cross volunteer, she'd never expected to be involved in such a horrible disaster as this. She pulled her sticky no-sleeve cotton shirt away from her body, trying to get some sort of relief from the humid evening. It might have been late September but the motionless air was still as hot as the daytime high of 88. She thought about how much hotter the men working in turnouts were and sighed again. They had been working the crash now for over 6 hours solid and already they'd seen several cases of heat exhaustion and dehydration at the aid/recovery tent.

Even as she thought it, movement to the right of the tent's cover caught her eyes. A lone figure was staggering in their direction, feet barely lifted from the ground, head hanging down, arms limp. As she watched, the figure angled his shuffling walk toward one of the benched tables, while one hand clumsily unfasten his turnout's latches. His knee bumped the bench and he wavered to a stop, swaying on his feet before executing a controlled collapse onto the bench. Both arms stretched out on the table top before him and his head dropped on them. Then he was still.

Tina's training as a LPN kicked in and she grabbed up a water bottle from the cooler along with two large orange juices and a soaked towel. She hurried toward the still figure, sure she would find him in trouble.

As she got closer she could see what of his face wasn't buried in his turnout sleeve. His eyes were closed, lines of exhaustion marked his face which looked pale even under the bright artificial lights glaring from the nearby light truck. His dark hair was plastered to his head, probably from being under the helmet he'd tipped off onto his back. This close now, she could hear his breathing, even and slightly rapid.

She placed the juices and water on the table and touched his shoulder. "Hello? My name's Tina, please let me help you."

He breathed a faint sigh but didn't react. She reached under his chin, found the latch to his helmet strap, loosened it, took it off, and laid it on the table in front of him. Then she took the soaked towel and draped it over his neck and head. He stirred slightly as the cool fabric touched him and his eyelids fluttered but didn't open.

Next she carefully began working the heavy coat from him, noting as she folded it and laid it down the name of 'Gage" stenciled on the back. As soon as she released his arms, they went back to the table top and his head rested back on them. She took his wrist, found his skin was warm but not hot, or clammy and cool like she feared. "Asleep then. But I'd say you were getting close to overheating." She told the figure. She shook her head, "Sometimes I envy you firemen's ability to sleep just about anywhere."

Although she knew his body probably craved the sleep, she knew he needed the fluids more. She shook his shoulder, "C'mon now, you need to wake up and drink."

He made no move; his eyes stayed heavily closed. She shook him a bit harder. "C'mon, you must wake up." A quick glance at his sleeve revealed the bright paramedic patch. "C'mon Gage" she used his name, hoping it would rouse him, "You know you need to drink."

He shifted slightly but stayed sprawled out over the table top.

"There you are." Came a weary voice from behind her and she turned quickly to see another firefighter trudging up to her, his hands burdened with two drinks and two plates of food. "I wondered where you got off to." Tina grabbed the dangerously filled plates from the man and placed them on the table. He flashed her a weary grin as he halted next to the other man. "He's asleep." She needlessly told him.

He nodded, his blue eyes on the other form. "He's exhausted. We had a full day of runs before we even came out here."

"He needs to drink." Again her words felt unnecessary but she spoke them anyway. He nodded, "I know. And eat. He hasn't eaten in over 10 hours. I'm surprised he hasn't fainted from low blood sugar before now." He shook his head, "Probably been going on just pure Gage stubbornness." He mumbled while shedding his own turnout coat.

"I couldn't wake him." She again felt like she was stating the obvious. She waved toward the turnout coat. "I at least got his coat and helmet off."

The other man grinned, "Thanks. I'll take it from here. My partner; my responsibility." He reached down and roughly shook the other man's shoulder. The action contradicted the tenderness in his eyes and his voice as he called, "C'mon junior. Up and att'em."

At the sound of that familiar voice, Johnny stirred and blinked open his eyes. "Huh? Oh. Roy." He wiped a hand down his face, his eyes refusing to open more than half. "Man, I'm beat." With great effort, he pulled his helmet to him and made to stand up. "Where they want us now?" He slurred, his head drooping.

Roy pushed on Johnny's shoulder and he collapsed from his half raised position. "No where junior. We're stood down. But you need to refuel."

Johnny blinked, seeing the drinks and food for the first time. His words, "I guess I can eat." belied the rumbling growl emitted by his stomach.

Tina stifled a giggle and with practiced ease opened the juices. She put one into the dark haired man's hand and shoved the other closer to his partner. The younger medic glanced briefly at her and gave a flash of a grin before tipping the carton to his lips and downing the drink in mere seconds. When he righted, he looked a little more wake and suddenly noticed the wet towel draped over his head.

Questioning dark eyes in a very young face looked from his friend to her. "You looked over heated." She explained. "We've found that these work very well."

"Feels good." He murmured as he fingered the edge. Roy pushed the larger plate of food toward his friend. "Eat up, Johnny, then we've got sack time." He told him even as he bit into his own sandwich.

Johnny flashed a more complete grin at his friend, "Sounds even better." He stated as he ravenously attacked the plate. All too soon it was cleaned and he was sipping on the bottle water. He'd pushed the other juice further in front of Roy but had already drained the drink his partner had also brought.

Tina had left them but returned with two more bottles. "Drink. I suspect you both are dehydrated."

"With as much as I've sweated, I don't doubt it." Roy agreed as he pulled his wet shirt away from his chest. Johnny snickered as he drained the first bottle and reached for the second. "Don't let Morton hear you or you'll be flat on your back with a D5W IV."

Roy made a face as he finished his food and opened his water. "That's your trick Gage, not mine."

Johnny made a face, "Ha, ha." He took the towel off his head, wiped it across his face and dropped it onto the table. "So, you said something about a bed?"

Roy smiled. "I did." He stood, taking up his water. "C'mon Junior, beddy by time."

Johnny grabbed up his helmet and coat and flashed a quick grin of thanks toward the middle aged woman watching them from further inside the tent. "You're too full of comments and I'm too tired to continue this." He complained even as he shuffled off behind his friend.

Tina watched them go, her eyes slightly narrowed. As she'd watched him inhale the food his partner had brought him, she'd studied him. Tall, thin, dark hair and eyes, high cheekbones—definitely not white. She'd seen the back of the other man's coat and now realized. "His name was Gage. And I heard the one called DeSoto call him Johnny. Those are the names; I'm sure of it. John Gage's the one I need to talk to," She bit her lip as she glanced around, hoping that sometime later she would get the chance. She knew the rotation was 6 hours working, 4 hours sleep then back on search and rescue since each station responding had already worked a full day. By that time, they hoped to have most of the triage aspect done and the rest would be recovery and clean up. The first stations' shifts would be relieved as others came on. She knew the chances were good she would see the weary duo again.

Roy watched as Johnny barely lined up with the wooden cot before he collapsed. Johnny's left arm flipped over his face and by the slackness of his features, he knew his friend was already out. He smiled slightly as he fluffed the stiff pillow and soon joined his partner in oblivion.

Johnny was rocking and it wasn't doing his stomach any good. "Great. When'd we get on this boat?" he muttered faintly. A familiar chuckle brought him a little more alert and he peeked out from under his arm. Roy looked down on him. "Sorry. Nap time's over, junior. Back to the salt mines."

Johnny groaned as he sat up. "Was that really four hours? It felt like I barely closed my eyes."

"Yeah." Roy agreed with him as he pushed his own protesting body to his feet. Beside him Johnny was putting his turnout coat back on but leaving it unfastened. "Have we got time for some chow?"

Roy smiled, "I think we can risk it." He followed his partner back over to the recovery tent. At this hour, there were few others around, mostly firefighters like them coming on rest or going off it. Several gave the duo weary nods of acknowledgement which they answered in kind. Most were too tired for any chit-chat.

After Johnny had downed two sandwiches, an apple and two more orange juices, he sat waiting for Roy to finish up his own sandwich and banana. Once done, the two headed back over to the ever present chief with the detail clipboard.

"Gage and DeSoto." Roy spoke for the two. The chief nodded as one finger traced down his list. He made a check mark and announced. "DeSoto, head over to the triage tent. You're on ambulance runs this time." He looked up at the younger firefighter, "Gage, you're still on search and rescue. You'll be heading a team going over to meet with engine 48 in section 4. They had a freight car slip off the overhead while they were trying to secure it. It blew on impact, causing explosions in the cars from backed up traffic."

Johnny's face paled slightly as he imagined lines of cars to search. "Any idea how many we're talking about, Chief?"

The chief shook his head, "The cars were already evacuated. However, several of the businesses around there were operating on business—as—usual. There was a gas station involved that lost a pump but last I heard that was under control." Johnny nodded his understanding.

The chief pointed to a nearby firetruck. "That will take you on site."

"Who else is on my team?" Johnny asked. The chief consulted his board, "Hendricks, out of 92 and two new guys, uhhhhh, Dobson and Kent."

At that name, Roy's head shot up. "Kent? Marcus Kent?" The chief looked at him, his expression unreadable. "Yeah."

Roy turned to Johnny, seeing his partner's face settle into its professional mask. Instantly and unexpectedly, he felt a tingle of apprehension. "Johnny . . ."

"I'll be fine, Roy. I've already met Dobson; he's got good instincts and I know the captain out of 48's."

"We'll take good care of your partner; no need to worry. 'Course tellin' you that's like tellin' the sun not ta rise." A deep voice boomed and Roy turned and stared straight into a broad chest. He tilted his head to look up and his blue eyes met lighter blue eyes grinning back at him. "Well I'll be! Patty! You ole smoke eater!" Roy smiled broadly at the man, his hands going out to slap on both of the grinning man's beefy upper arms. The giant before them grabbed Roy by the scuff of the neck and pulled him into a one arm hug. "Still the worrier, huh wart?"

Roy blushed slightly and his gaze met clearly curious brown eyes. Johnny arched an eyebrow. "Wart?" he intoned. Roy's blush deepened.

The man grinned now at Johnny. "Yep! Wart! As in worrywart!" Then he looked closer at Johnny. His close scrutiny caused Johnny to take a step back. "Holy Moly, Wart! I can see why you're worried! This kid'd blow away in a strong sneeze! You sure he's made it as a hose jockey? Looks like he'd fly off if ya opened up with him on nozzle."

Now it was Johnny's turn to color. Roy grinned at him. "Johnny, this is Patrick
Nolan. Patty was lineman at 36's, the station I was rescueman at."

Johnny looked from the grinning giant to his current partner and burst out with, "Great. Another Irishman," and immediately colored, his dark eyes going wide. "No, I didn't mean . .. uhhh… that's not what . . ." he stopped at the look he was getting and dropped his eyes. "oh crap."

Patty's eyes had narrowed at that comment but now he burst into uproarious laughter. He slapped Johnny on the back then quickly grabbed his arm as the blow staggered the slighter man. "I see now. He's an entertaining kid. Holy Moly!" He kept a steadying hand on Johnny's shoulder as the younger man looked warily at him. Patty's smile was friendly and his eyes twinkled as he said in a softer voice. "Don't worry. I'm nothin' like Kelly." Then his grin broadened, "At least not in that aspect." His chest puffed out as he bragged, "And with a hose, I can swirl circles around that little squirt!"

Roy had stepped closer when Johnny staggered, knowing his partner was still tired and well dwarfed by Patty's 6 foot 6 frame. Now he gave his friend a reassuring smile. "Patty isn't a prankster like Chet. In fact other than being Irish, he's nothing like Chet other than he's a great lineman."

"Engineer now' Patty said with a large amount of pride. Roy's eyebrow went up and he grabbed the man's large hand, shaking it enthusiastically. "Engineer! That's great!"

Patty nodded, "Yep. Been an engineer now for 4 years. The missus loves it. And while I sometimes miss hands-on fighting the beast, I really enjoy making sure the guys in the heat have all the support they need." His face sobered as he looked at Roy. "You understand why."

Roy nodded, his own face serious. He tilted his own head at Johnny and Patty nodded. Patty then slapped Johnny's back again, but not nearly as hard as he had previously and said, "I'm getting back to my rig. We're nearly ready to leave. Don't worry DeSoto, I'll make sure we return your partner back to you in at least the condition we got 'em."

Roy smiled but his eyes held a serious note as he shook his friend's hand again. "See that you do. I've finally got him trained just like I want to and don't wanna hafta start over." He smiled at the disgusted look Johnny shot him, then in a more serious note, he added. "He has a proclivity for finding trouble."

Patty's eyes went briefly to Johnny's hands, "So I hear." He smiled at Johnny and offered his hand, "Don't you worry none, me boyo, Patty has your back!"

Johnny smiled, liking this big fellow. He shook the man's hand and found the handshake firm but not crushing. Then Patty trotted off and climbed into the cab of the waiting truck. The large engine roared to life and Johnny turned back to Roy. "What was that . . .."

Roy's lips twitched. "We nearly lost Patty in a fire. Did lose his partner. The engineer got distracted talking to some girls at a scene and wasn't watching his gauges. The pressure dropped and they got overrun with the fire. It was right before I took the class at Harbor." His eyes dropped. "If we'd had the equipment then we do now I could've probably saved him."

Johnny laid his hand on Roy's upper arm in sympathy and Roy was struck suddenly at how things worked. That action with his old station had made him more determined to find out about the infant paramedic program and then to push it through the department. That gusto for the paramedics had led to convincing a certain young rescue man with a similar drive into signing up as well. He looked into his friend's eyes, saw the understanding, sympathy and trust looking back at him and his stomach tightened in anxiety. "Johnny, be careful."

Johnny smiled at his friend and briefly tightened his hand before he dropped it. "I will." Then he gave a cheeky grin, " 'sides, you have your friend's promise I'll be back in the same condition I left."

Roy chuckled but couldn't shake the tight feeling in his gut as he watched Johnny saunter off and climb up into the waiting engine. He watched as several other men, including Marc Kent climbed on board and the engine headed off. He waited until it was out of sight and found himself whispering, "Please. Keep him safe. Keep them all safe."

OK. I know this was a loooong chapter. I very easily could've broken the rest up into more chapters but I promised only two more. Some of these scenes are my husband's fault. He gleefully suggested the cougar at the apartment complex. He also found me one day poking myself with a toothpick finding dead spots and suggested that as something Johnny would do. (My disease has wonderfully rewired my nerves. Some areas are dead; some painfully sensitive) An about the disaster, some of the scenes I used were from simulations I was involved in. The paramedic asked if I knew my name but never asked my name. All the answers I gave were wrong (I was marked as head injury) The paramedic tagged me green and left me so I wandered all around the scene, watched various medics work while making comments and finally went over and sat on a nearby swingset. No one stopped me or questioned me again. Once the end of the scenario was called, I was marked as dead and the instructor told them why. Also, I don't know if recovery tents were used in the 70's like we use them now but similar things I'm sure came up. If it works, it gets reused! Well, hope you're all ready because the next chapter is gonna be wild!